Possession(33)

“And how can you possibly punish me more than you already have?”

Without warning, Drake pulls my hips up, and I land with an undignified huff on the bed. Soon, Drake is in between my legs, and with a hand on my face, he starts stroking my cheek.

Arousal and fear creep up my spine as he tenderly trails his finger down from my cheek to my jaw before placing his hand around my neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but he’s certainly giving me the idea that he holds the power. As usual, he commands me like a puppet on his not-so-delicate string.

“Tonight,” he whispers, pushing my head to the side before kissing my neck, “we will be having our engagement party, and one of the hosts will wear that ring with pride.”

“I don’t want—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, placing a finger to my lips. “You’ve said enough. Now, it’s my turn.” He starts kissing me around my neck again, and I can’t help the spike of arousal I feel as his warm lips touch my skin. With every glide of his mouth over my neck, the sparks fly, and a want like no other crawls into every pore of me. I don’t will it, but my heart races, and with it, my breathing becomes laboured. I know Drake can feel it because he’s just as affected. He, too, is breathing heavily. He wants to take this further just as much as I do.

“Two more days,” he says breathlessly. “Two more days, and I’ll get to see you bare, feel skin on skin. I know you want it just as much as I do, Evelyn. Stop denying what your body obviously wants. I can feel you tremble beneath me. I can feel your heart beating just as wildly as mine. You want me to take you. You want me to caress you. You want me to fuck you.” He emphasises the word “fuck,” and I can’t help what that does to my insides. I don’t mean to, but the sound of that word on his lips makes me moan with want. What makes it even worse is the fact that I can feel his hardness digging into me. He wants me, and knowing this makes my own arousal spike that much higher. I hate him, though. I hate what he’s doing to me, and I hate what he’s making me do against my will. Maybe if he was nice about it, I would love him like he wants me to. But he’s not asking for my love.

He’s trying to force it.

“I’m not wearing the ring.” The trembling in my voice betrays me.

His fiery kisses stop as he pulls his head from my neck. With a tug of my chin, he makes me look at him. “This isn’t a request. If you do not comply, then I shall have to take matters into my own hands.”

“What does that mean? What could you possibly do?”

Without a beat, he sighs and with a matter-of-fact voice says, “I had guests around my house a few days ago. I showed them our stables. They were most taken with Ireland.”

My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”

He frowns. “Wouldn’t what? Sell her? They are offering a very good price.”

“You’re lying.”

“Do you want to bet on that, darling?”

Feeling my face flush with anger, I try pushing him, but it’s useless. “You’re a hateful, spiteful, despicable man.”

“Is that a yes then?” he asks with a smirk.

“I hate you.”

“I love you. Now, if you want me to be a gentleman and ask you, then I will. But if I don’t like the answer, I’m afraid I will be making a certain phone call today.”

I can feel the tears prick my eyes, but force them down. He knows how much I love and care for Ireland. “Did you buy her deliberately so that you could use her against me like this?” When he doesn’t answer, realisation dawns on me. “You did, didn’t you?”

Ignoring me, Drake gets off, pulling me up and positioning himself between my legs. “Now,” he says, grabbing my left hand. “I’m going to ask you two questions, and the answer better be yes to both.”

I feel like crying, but I stop any tears from falling. I’m not going to let him see that he’s winning. He has me and he knows he has me. He knows I would do anything and give anything to keep Ireland … even if it means selling myself to him.

As he looks me in the eye, I try to take steady, even breaths. I’m so angry with him … so pent up with rage. He wants me to agree to marry him, but all I want to do is scratch his eyes out.

“Evelyn,” he finally says, holding my attention, “will you marry me?”

Through gritted teeth, I say, “Yes.”

His face lights up with a breathtaking smile. For a moment, I feel lost in that smile, but it quickly fades when he asks me the next question.

“And will you wear your ring tonight to show everyone that we’re engaged and that you’re mine and mine alone?”